Unaware of the turmoil inside me, Betty lets out a soft chuckle, tracing the lines of her grandson’s image. “He loved that shirt. Would wear it to church on Sundays and give the old conservatives fits.”

“Wow. That’s brave! I never wore mine to church. Maybe to youth group once or twice…”

Betty smiles. “Andrew had a special kind of faith. I envied it, really. God was sovereign, and rules be damned. He couldn’t care less what people thought of him on Sunday mornings. It bothered some people, but Andrew sang like an angel and made worship into a real experience. No one dared ask him to step down, no matter his transgressions.”

“Really?” I ask softly. “I can’t imagine that.”

“No? Forgive me, honey, you know my personal feelings, but has no one ever questioned your…” Betty gestures to the row of ear piercings lining my cartilage and the stripes in my hair.

I catch on right away and shake my head. “I wonder if that’s why she allowed it? Because of how my real dad was.” That seems too generous. “But no, as long as I kept my shoulders covered and didn’t spend any time alone with boys, I could do what I wanted with my style. Modesty over creativity, always, but I had some freedoms, and you can be sure I made the most of them.”

Betty chuckles. “And your church?”

I shrug. “Ann Arbor is pretty liberal on the surface, and our church was the same. They were okay with my fashion choices as long as I sang from a very, very pure heart.”

My great-grandmother understands my meaning. “Ah.” She looks like she wants to say more, but my phone rings, and even though I silence it immediately, the moment has passed.

We spend a few more minutes flipping through the photo album until there is a knock on the front door letting Betty know it’s time to eat. She asks me if I want to join her, but it’s too early for me to be hungry, so I invite her to dinner later this week instead. She and James, though I’m still nervous about meeting my long-lost uncle.

“Absolutely. Let me call James and check his availability. I’ll text you later,” she says.

I love her. Did I say that already? Coolest great-grandma ever.

I kiss her soft cheek, feeling like I’ve known her my entire life, rather than an afternoon, and drive back to my hotel where I promptly pass out on the scratchy duvet, too exhausted to check my phone and call my mom back.

Maybe tomorrow.

4

Micah

I’m exactly fourteen minutes early for work, and every second shows on the face of my boss, Dani.